


Teacher's Pet

by artysmartypigfarty



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: F/M, Fingering, High School, Teacher/Student Roleplay, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artysmartypigfarty/pseuds/artysmartypigfarty
Summary: Lydia goes to school one day to find a substitute teacher that bears a striking *striped* resemblance to her spouse.A naughty lil one-shot inspired by Professor Beej drawings.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Teacher's Pet

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Hi there! Welcome to my hooker palace! Pls don't leave I have no friends (actually I'm blessed with them but wanted to use a tiktok reference to be #relevant) 
> 
> Anyway here's a one shot inspired by the professor Beej's drawings. I've got a few on my tumblr which I can link : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/artysmartypigfartyy
> 
> Enjoy!

Tuesdays were the worst. 

The worst day of the week in Lydia’s opinion, and if challenged, she’d gladly explain precisely why she thought they were the worst and argue this point until she had one agreeing with her wholeheartedly. Her points were clear. Mondays held the appeal of being the start of a new week. Wednesday meant the week was half done, and often had the best cafeteria offerings at Miss. Shannon’s. Thursday was Friday-eve, and Friday naturally was the end of the week, meaning there were a whole two days for fun. Tuesdays were a dreary reminder that the week was not nearly finished and lacked the appeal of seeing fresh faces and exchanging weekend gossip. 

Lydia was never one for gossip. She busied herself with truly disturbing tales, macabre, romantic stories that cast the anecdotes of her classmate’s misadventures in a pale shadow when compared. Her weekend adventures were difficult to explain. She often had to lie a bit about what she did, not because it was lame, but because it was simply too strange and too unusual to be palatable for the vanilla minds of Winter River, Connecticut. 

Bertha and Prudence were great friends. It didn’t take her long to become fond of them when she started at Miss Shannon’s. They’d effectively taken Lydia under their wing when she enrolled. However, given the girls were on the bottom rung of the popularity wheel, it was less of a protective status and more of an invitation to seek shelter. Lydia was often a loner. Ordinary people just didn’t get her. Still, as part of her general ‘new leaf’ policy, she was trying to institute in her life, she was trying to leave behind her isolating tendencies she’d had in new york. Trends that only grew worse when her mother died. 

So as it stood, Bertha and Prudence were her friends. They exchanged stories of their weekend every Monday and endured brutish, albeit stupid comments cast from Claire Brewster and her posse. Lydia struggled to share her stories of the weekend, mostly because her weekends were not something her new friends at school would understand. Her life was simply too strange and too unusual for the sweet girls with whom she’d become acquainted. All that was left to her was to lie, and so lie she did—sanitizing her tales of the weekend so that she could maintain the palatable weird girl at school. 

“Yeah so my Dad found out about those tickets I bought on his card, so I’m grounded for a few weeks, he hasn’t figured out about the magazine subscriptions I signed up for though.” Bertha chuckled nervously, shutting her locker “What did you get up to this weekend, Lydia?”

“Oh nothing much, stayed home mostly” Lydia rolled her head on her shoulders. It wasn’t the total truth, nor was it a lie. She had stayed home, though that home was her husband’s as he’d carried her away for a visit to the Netherworld. They’d spent the time together, adult free getting up to various shenanigans and seeing the sights. As agreed upon, they’d returned to the living world Sunday night meaning in comparison to the living timeline they’d only spent half a day together in the Netherworld. 

Her husband was the exact reason why she hated Tuesdays. On this particular day, he complained that the weekend was not enough time for them to have spent together, ironic as they spent every waking moment together aside from the times she went to school. Whenever it came time for her to go to school, he’d sulk, complaining about being bored in the house or making loud assertions for how he was going to spend his time free of his ball-and-chain. Lydia had grown used to it, though in the way that one becomes used to noisy neighbors. It wasn’t shocking for her to see this behavior pick up Sunday night, carrying on over to Monday morning. Monday afternoon was exceptional in that he greeted her at the door like an overly anxious puppy. Usually, she’d have barely a chance to exchange greetings with her ghostly parents before he was there, whisking her away to her bedroom gleefully. Wednesday onward, he’d grow accustomed to the week and stop punishing her for leaving him behind. Tuesdays however, she associated with a surly ball of resentment sending her off to school, frequently not appearing until Wednesday afternoon after some variant netherworld binge.

That was the catalyst for their argument this morning. Lydia was sick of it. She was sick of coming home Tuesday to find him gone, only to have him stumble back the following day wreaking of brimstone and booze. He’d usually have some crass story to tell her, one designed to get a rise out of her, which it always did. They’d have a massive fight that devolved quickly into angry sex, then makeup sex. The cycle would smooth itself out, and they’d be another step closer to the weekend. That morning, however, Lydia decided she was over it. She 

didn’t want to face the empty room when she came home that afternoon. Instead of dealing with the situation, she managed it the only way she knew how. She baited him into an argument. 

She told him not to bother coming back at all. She told him when he came back not to go near her because she didn’t want to catch whatever venerable disease, he was bound to be carrying at this point. He’d scoffed at her, called her a spoiled brat, flashed his powers around, accused her of abandoning him. The argument was so loud that morning that Delia didn’t even attempt to have Lydia take the homemade vegan smoothie she’d whipped up for breakfast. Instead, the adults were shell shocked as she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her and getting on her bike. Lydia hoped she’d pissed Beetlejuice off so severely that he hadn’t seen her fall off her bike as she peddled angrily away. She was sure he was wrecking some sort of havoc in her absence. She wasn’t sure what was worse: returning home to an angry Beetlejuice or not coming home to one at all. 

“Earth to Lydia” Bertha snapped her fingers in front of her face to get her attention. Bertha, what an unfortunate name, not that Prudence was much better, but it was slightly more forgiving in nicknames it could spark. Old family names, a byproduct of being in an old New England town. Adjusting to her surroundings, Lydia did what all good yuppies could, shoved her feelings into a corner of her mind, and pretended as if nothing was wrong. 

“Oh Sorry Bertha, what were you saying?”

“I said that I heard we have a substitute teacher today” Prudence cleared her throat. Lydia looked to her friend, noting the severe part of her vibrant orange hair. Prudence was tiny, which, considering Lydia was just over 5ft, was honestly saying something. For her lack of height, Prudence made up for it with encyclopedic knowledge and a secret love for hardcore rock. Forgiving Lydia for her inattention, she continued, “Supposedly they are covering our history class...I hope we still have that quiz I don’t want all those flashcards I made to go to waste.” 

“Shit,” Lydia breathed. “I forgot about the quiz today,” groaning. She slammed her locker door, contemplating reopening it and doing it again with her head in the way. The spat she had with her demon pushed all thought of studying out of her mind. “Ugh great a big fat D I’m going to have to deal with.” 

Frustration fueled tears poked at the corners of her eyes. She could almost hear her demon snickering in the corner of her mind in regards to another Big fat D she was going to have to deal with. She had to be imagining things, or at least she sorely hoped she was. She didn’t need to tiptoe into the world of auditory hallucinations. Even if it was her husband’s disembodied laugh, she wasn’t keen on hearing it at school. 

“Don’t worry Lydia, I’m sure I’m going to fail too.” Bertha lamented with a sigh disrupting Lydia’s thoughts. “We will just have to approach the gallows together!” she thrust her fist up into the sky before walking towards the classroom. She abruptly stopped “I forgot my book, shoot I’ll be right back” 

Lydia and Prudence watched her dart in the direction they’d just come from. Lydia turned her head to the shorter girl and shrugged, starting to head towards the room again. A few steps farther and Prudence announced she needed to go to the bathroom. More than likely, she had an influx of panic fueled nausea at the impending academic strain. Lydia sighed and made her way towards the class by herself. She was earlier than any of her peers, odd but not entirely unheard of. 

Stepping into the history classroom, she made her way towards her seat, glancing only briefly at the man sitting with his feet up on the desk. She took a few steps and did a double-take. It wasn’t just any man. It was her husband. Her undead, perverted demonic husband. His hands clasped behind his head, a broad self-satisfied smile across his face. He looked the part, as best as he could, considering the fact he was a corpse. He’d dressed in perhaps the cleanest outfit she’d ever seen him in...she’d almost believed that he stole it from her father except that it bore his signature stripes. 

Lydia’s jaw dropped open. She was in total disbelief. He’d followed her to school, what’s more, he was pretending to be a teacher. He poised in a position to put her through so much hell at the moment she debating running away and spending the entire class period locked in the bathroom. No, he was trying to one-up her. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Still, rage simmered with anxiety boiled just beneath the surface. She brought her eyes to meet his. He was waiting for her to say something, merely watching the emotions flicker across her face. He sat up slowly, placing his feet on the ground and straightening his tie. He’d written his name on the board or attempted to as the lopsided script written in chalk was just barely legible. 

‘Mr. Lawence’ 

“Nice job spelling you name wrong dumbass” she snorted with mirthless laughter. He raised his brows at her looking abashed for just a moment before that cocky expression returned. 

“I’ll see you in detention, Ms. Deetz” He lazily drawled in response. One eyebrow raised, and his old overbite crept back as he leered at her. Lydia struggled to keep an amused smirk off her face. She was struggling to remember she was angry at him at the moment. Scowling, she walked to the other side of the desk and picked up the eraser, removing his name.

“Fucking moron” she scowled as she lifted the chalk and wrote the fake name with the proper spelling. Her fingers clung the item as she looped the final E, jumping as she felt a sudden cold breeze on her backside. She turned her head sharply, finding he’d slipped a ruler beneath the hem of her skirt and was admiring her backside. “Hey!”

“Ms. Deetz, did you want another detention? I don’t think your skirt meets the required length” She didn’t think it was possible for his smile to grow wider, but it still did. “Why don’t you get on your knees so we can test it” 

Lydia scowled at him, moving to stomp away before the ruler collided with her backside, leaving a sharp sting. She yelped in shock, turning to face him again, her cheeks flushed pink. Did he just spank her? With a ruler? At her school!? Anger Bubbled to the surface, really to mask the other tide of emotions stirring in her. 

She didn’t want to admit to how the slap affected her. Especially when she knew the ruler was in his hand. It didn’t hurt really, the tingling feeling left in the slaps wake left her wanting more if she was honest with herself. That was the last thing she was going to let him know. 

Growling at him, she picked her books up and went to take her seat. She cursed her surname to no end, given that it only afforded her to be in the second row due to the school’s proclivity for seating based on alphabetic order. She was momentarily spared from additional harassment as her peers started to filter into the room. She waited for their reactions to his appearance, but they never came. 

She’d been hoping for a scream, a double-take, or maybe even a nervous laugh as they took in the green hair, deathly pallor, general energy around him that cautioned level headed mortals to fear for their safety. None of them came, not a single reaction. Lydia turned her head to look at him, confused, breaking her unspoken vow to ignore him for the remainder of the period to assert her irritation. What she found when she looked at him was not her husband but rather a mortal, albeit messy looking man. He’d disguised himself, of course. Catching her eyes on him, he winked at her a single streak of green appearing in his hair before it turned the same shade of dark brown as the rest of his mane. 

Lydia didn’t want to admit to how amused she was in the moment. Of all she thought might come from their fight that morning, she hadn’t expected this. Leave it to him to hold all the aces on her once more. Now she wrestled with being concerned for her classmates and burning curiosity for whatever he had planned. With any luck, everyone would come out of this alive. Bertha and Prudence entered the room together, taking their respective seats. Bertha in the front corner diagonal from Lydia and Prudence two rows over in the front. Her’s was the only arrangement adjusting in the alphabet structure due to her poor eyesight. Her eyes returned to the front of the class, expecting to see his amber hues boring into her, but they weren’t. They appeared to be looking up at the clock waiting for the bell to ring. 

It rang at precisely 9 am, clattering through the halls marking any misfortune being who hadn’t gotten to their classroom in time. The door to the hallway suddenly shut, something the students attributed to the wind or coincidence. Only Lydia had seen the slight flick of her husband’s fingers. She found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. She was anxious to see what his next move would be. Feigning disinterest, she tried to look away and act like she was unaffected. 

“Welcome Class” He began. He hadn’t transformed his voice as he had his appearance, which likely would be written off as him being an avid smoker. Lydia sat back in her seat, keeping her pose lazy as a form of challenge. “My name is Mr. Lawrence, I’ll be covering your class for today while your teacher recovers” 

That made Lydia sit up straight. Recover? Did he do something to Mrs. Carter? She wouldn’t put it past him if it meant he’d be able to torment her at school. It wasn’t like his moral compass existed. Lydia’s face scrunched as she considered the plausibility. It took her about 10 minutes to get to school on her bike, 12 if you factored in the fact she’d fallen off and had trouble getting out of the driveway. If there was a murder, surely the alarm would have been raised by now, unless they hadn’t found the body yet. She was so immersed in her thoughts; she didn’t realize her name was being called. A sharp kick delivered to her shin jarred her from her thoughts. 

“Like, Pay attention freak” Claire hissed at her, retracting her foot and crossing her legs once more. She sat in the row beside her. Lydia looked forward and saw Beetlejuice raising a brow at her. 

“Deetz?” He read from the list. She hadn’t looked up fast enough to catch the look of irritation he cast at Claire when she kicked Lydia. Instead, she met with his bemused expression, still maintaining his charade to torment her. She knew he got frustrated whenever the attention was not on him. Pursing her lips, Lydia conceded and responded 

“Present” she drawled, shifting back in her seat. She watched him smile and wondered what depraved thought was going through his mind. For the moment she told herself that he just caused misfortune in scaring Mrs. Carter, he wouldn’t have killed someone for only for the opportunity to tease Lydia at school. Not that he’d have qualms about it, but she hoped the fact she’d be beyond livid at him would deter him. She bit the end of her pencil as he kept moving down the roster. He seemed to have become disinterested after saying Lydia’s name. Either that or he was unable to make out how to pronounce the names he was coming across. He wasn’t illiterate as she’d thought in the past; however, his ability to read modern English was limited. 

“It looks like there’s enough of you here to fill the roster, so let’s be done with that” he shrugged, tossing the clipboard back onto the desk. Lydia raised her hand, looking to taunt him a bit, considering how bold he was being. She wiggled her fingers at him as he looked at her bemused. “Yes Deetz?” he drawled. 

“I was just wondering what your specialty is, Mr. Lawrence? I don’t think I’ve seen you sub a class before...what are your qualifications?” She twirled her pencil in her hand before bringing the tip to her mouth, biting the metal end as she smirked at him.

“My Qualifications?” He repeated, knowing precisely what she was referring to “Well if you’re looking for references, I am a graduate of Julliard” he turned his back to the class for a moment. Lydia couldn’t help but admit to herself that his ‘professional’ attire suited him well. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that was rolled at the sleeves exposing strong, albeit hairy forearms. His slacks were better tailored than his usual striped suit and held up with suspenders she imagined wrapping her fingers around and snapping against his chest. She admired the view quickly, sitting up and looking out the window as he turned around. 

Beetlejuice held a stack of papers in his hands, a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked out over the class. “Now continuing with your teacher’s lesson plan, I have a quiz for you all” He walked up to the top of each row and passed a number of papers for them to distribute to the students. Lydia waited for her copy to end up on her desk, taking a sheet for herself and passing the remainder behind her. Tearing her eyes from her husband, she looked down at the paper and suppressed a groan.

Typically Lydia was a good student; she always studied and was prepared for whatever came across her desk. She worked hard to make sure that her grades stayed up despite Beetlejuice’s return so that her father didn’t have a ground to state that the demon needed to go. Charles had no real power over the situation, but Lydia wanted to avoid the fight regardless. She wanted to exist in the closest semblance to peace as she could attain when married to a demonic agent of chaos. There was an idea….perhaps she could use that marriage to her advantage. No, she wasn’t going to play his game. She glanced up to find his eyes on her, waiting expectantly for her to call on him. She stubbornly looked back at her paper, doing her best to figure the answers out herself.

Placing her pencil on the paper, she wrote her name and started on the multiple-choice questions. Dead Mom told her when it doubt go through multiple choice like making a pattern. Most teachers hid the answers between B and C, don’t fill in ‘all of the above’ more than twice. Lots of little tricks that would aid her daughter in being successful and having more time for their pranks. She dotted her pencil along, following her advice. She got to the fourth question when she noticed something wrong.

Only it wasn’t wrong, it was right, it was terrific but wrong for right now. She had to be imagining things. He wouldn’t dare. Not in the middle of her classmates. He wouldn’t do that to her. Refusing to look up, she marked down her answer to the 5th question when the sensation returned. 

A cold feeling on her thigh, a sudden brush against her lower lips, a tingling sensation around her clit. Lydia nearly dropped her pencil. It was like a current rushing through her, but that current was made of blissful feelings that caused her to sit up, brushing her hair behind her ear. She refused to look at him, biting her lip as it continued.

The more she refused to look, the more the sensation came. Lydia felt like her mind was fracturing as if her husband’s head was beneath her skirt, sucking and murmuring against her clit, shoving his fingers inside of her as he promised more lascivious attentions to come. Her teeth dug into her lip as she swallowed a breathy moan, passing it off as a groan in response to the quiz. She gripped the wood of the desk, taking breaths to steady herself. 

The sensation became harder still, pushing and pulling her to the breaking point. Lydia thought of all she could to deter this. She couldn’t cum in class. He couldn’t do that to her. She looked for distraction, something to repel her. Finally, her eyes landed on Claire Brewster. That would be like a cold shower. She focused her eyes on the blonde for a moment, watching her write in excessively bubbled letters as she started on the short answer questions. 

Feeling eyes upon her, Claire looked to Lydia curling her lip in disgust, seeing her attention. A manicured hand shot into the air. 

“Like Mr. Lawerence, Lydia is like totally trying to cheat off my test” This sparked a wave of whispers among the class. Lydia cheating? Off of Claire’s test for that matter! This affront to the roles of popular ditz and goth nerd raised a few eyebrows. Lydia couldn’t give them much thought as the vibrations beneath her skirt continued. She looked up at the ceiling as she heard footsteps approaching. 

“What seems to be the issue here, ladies?” Beetlejuice rested his hands in his pockets, looking at the two girls smugly. Lydia conceded defeat and met his gaze, narrowing her eyes to indicate her displeasure. Well, maybe that was the wrong word as she felt nothing but pleasure as the phantom finger within her pushed against her walls. She squirmed in her seat, violently like she was having a spasm. She couldn’t speak. She was afraid that if she dared to open her mouth, all that would come out would be to plead and moan for more. 

“Like, I was just like trying to take my quiz and saw her looking at my paper...Like, look at her she’s like shaking with guilt”

Lydia braced her elbow on the desk, putting her head in her hand to cover her expression. This was awful. She felt mortified. She sensed Beetlejuice moving closer to her, feeling his breath in her ear. He didn’t need to do that. He didn’t have to breathe—that asshole. 

“Is something wrong, Ms. Deetz?” he hissed looming over her. He had his hand on the back of her chair, his other hand placed on her desk near where she gripped the edge. He effectively caged her in. Was something wrong? Yes. What was wrong was that they were both still clothed and in a classroom full of mortals. The only remedy she could see was him juicing them out of there. Another wave of pleasure erased that from her mind, she couldn’t wait that long. She wanted him to throw her on the desk right there, just to bring her release. Sanity slipped from her. All that remained was hunger. His voice was in her ear again, this time his familiar growl. “I asked you a question, Ms. Deetz” 

“Mmmph” she groaned, tilting her head back. She was exposing her neck to him, wishing he’d place his lips there. She couldn’t recall why they fought this morning. 

“What was that, Ms. Deetz? I asked if something was wrong?” That son of a bitch was testing her. The sensations in her panties stopped suddenly. All felt still except for the screaming of her nerves desperate for the attention to continue. She was going to have to concede defeat, or he would withhold from her. Funny how she wanted that just moments ago, and now the idea had her digging her nails into the cheap plywood of the school desk. 

“N-no…” she forced herself to reply. She had to get a grip on her surroundings. To cool herself down and force him to bring her release later. She couldn’t come apart in a classroom full of her peers. She didn’t give a damn about her reputation as it was solidly sealed as the resident weirdo; however, she didn’t need to have a rumor about her having an orgasm in class. Her dark eyes darted around the room, looking at Bertha’s split ends, Prudence’s glasses, her half abandoned quiz on medieval Europe. Anywhere but the teacher who’s face was inches from hers. 

“No?” he drawled in response, he was looking at her over the rim of his glasses,  _ shit that was hot _ . “You seem like you’re having some trouble...did you want me to help you out?” at the word help the attentions returned. They surged back into existence so violently Lydia dipped her head back and heard a whine come from her throat. 

“Yesss…” she whimpered. He had her begging now. She could hear the smug smile in his voice. The strokes became harder, the sucking feeling stronger, Lydia felt like she was being pulled apart as she struggled to form coherent thought. 

“I can help you with that Ms. Deetz...Let me just take a look” He brought his hand to her paper before her and tapped the questions. Each tap timed with a thrust inside of her. “It looks like you’ve got questions one, two, and three right” his eyes bored into her. The three strokes did it. She burst curling up in her seat and then sitting back as her hand slammed against the desk. 

“Oh! Oh-ooh... _yesss_!” her face turned to beat red as she heard her voice fill the classroom. “T-that makes sense...t-thank you Mr. Lawrence” her chest heaving as she tried to gain her footing again. She looked up at him, her eyes softer but still with the promise of murder. He met her look with a smirk of his own, bringing his fingers to her lips and licking them. 

“My pleasure Ms. Deetz” he growled, moving away back to the front. “We can take care of the rest in Detention” 

“Yeah, I was feeling _anxious_ about a few things” she teased back, still unnerved by what occurred but needing to recover quickly. She was too stubborn to let him have all the power. Plus, the idea of him taking her on the desk after throwing the papers and pens to the floor made her feel weak. Lydia felt Claire glaring at her with her lip curled. 

“Teachers Pet” she taunted under her breath. Lydia made no efforts to retaliate. Here was a name from Claire. She was happy to take it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Would love to hear your thoughts. This may get a follow-up fic 'Detention Deetz' bc I'm a hoe for alliteration.


End file.
